The Legend Of Verity
by K'ger
Summary: In a time when faith in the divine has all but disappeared, a new goddess is born, innocent and unprotected from the great darkness that has been growing beneath the peoples' feet. A merchant, a pastor, an heir and an assassin must look past their differences and come together to protect their one hope at survival, a fledgling goddess named Verity... T for Violence & Language.
1. Sick Games

**Hello everyone, and welcome to my new story, _The Legend Of Verity._ I hope everyone will enjoy this story, the main character, Xenosis, was created by one of mi amigo's, Courage Of Awesome for my other story _When Fates Intertwine,_ and she gets full credit for him. He's a great character! **

**Enjoy.**

 **Playlist for chapter:**

 ** _Leave A Trace_ by _Chvrhes._ (Yes, that's how its spelt.)**

 ** _Psycho_ by _Muse._ (You HAVE to listen to this song! It's my favorite! I still can't imagine how a three-piece band can make such a fantastic sound! ...Watch out for the language though...It drops the f-bomb among other nasty words...)**

 ** _Roots_ by _Imagine Dragons_.**

 **P.s. No, this story is not, in any way, inspired by The Hunger Games. Don't even ask, i'm not a fan.**

* * *

Chapter 1.

* * *

Sick Games

* * *

"Finish it!"

"Kill him! Kill him!"

"Slit his throat!"

They were like barbarians. Bloodthirsty and screaming for violence, employing other's, like her, in their sick games like pawns on a chessboard. She'd never seen so much blood. It was everywhere. On the ground, the walls, the spectators. Not that it really bothered her anyway. She hadn't cared about blood in years, she'd grown so desensitized to it. She saw it nearly every day.

She sat quietly, holding her head high, maintaining her air of aloofness. She didn't want the other's to sense her turmoil. She'd become a master of hiding her emotions, leaving nothing for anyone to see but a cold, cold smile.

"Yes! That's it! Slice him good!"

"Rip out his throat!"

"Gouge his eyes!"

They were like war cries outside the run-down hut she was confined in. She wasn't actually stuck there, no one had made her stay. She just found that it was easier to wait on her own. If she went out there, they'd be on top of her like a pack of dogs fighting over a scrap of grizzle thrown from the dinner table.

Her ears pricked when an agonized gasp ripped from beyond the thin red fabric the hung in the only doorway. She wondered if it had always been red. Or had it been stained that sickly color from previous trials. When the gasp had faded, it was replaced with ruckus cries of victory from the spectators.

One of the contestants was now dead. A small casualty in a bigger, bloodier game.

The curtains parted, and from the brightness beyond her master entered, his face awash in worry lines. His thick hands were tucked into the deep pockets of his leather vest.

"Kai," he said to her, pulling a hand from one of the pockets and stroking the gray goatee that partially covered his boxy chin. "You're up."

She didn't answer. Only stood with a flurry of red fabric at her hip. She cracked her knuckles as she walked, turning her head in either direction, getting herself limbered for what was about to come. She had to be ready. She'd been training for this moment for years. Her heart was pounding against her ribcage, suddenly she didn't feel ready. Her feet were moving faster than she wished they would. Suddenly, she didn't want to go out there.

Had she trained hard enough? Did she even stand a chance? A girl had never won this sick competition before. A mere few had even tried. What had made her think that she could even try? Of course, she hadn't had much of a choice…

* * *

" _Me_? Train a _whelp_ like _you_? HA! Better luck elsewhere, shrimp!" And the door slammed in the young girl's face, leaving her to stand on he doorstep in the pouring rain. Her young body was riddled with cuts and bruises, ribs poking out from lack of food, eyes dull and sickly. Her hair, black as a raven's feathers, was plastered flat against her head from the drenching rain.

She stood there for a moment, thoroughly exhausted and fatigued. She was so tired, she felt as if she would fall any moment. And yet she turned, and strode into the forest behind her, mind set on her one last, flickering hope. There was one last place she could try. But only if she made it there before she died. There was a house deep, deep in the southern forest. Living there was a veritable legend among her people. A man by the name of Kage, known for training the best warriors ever to live.

There was just one problem. He'd been retired for over forty years.

No matter. Maybe she could win him over, coerce him into taking on one last student. It was her only chance at survival…

* * *

There was a sickly snap, loud as thunder to her ears, and as she released the older opponent, he fell to the bloodied earth below, screaming in agony, body shaking and writhing, his head lolling, only his skin and muscles keeping it on his shoulders. In a last gesture of pity, she picked up his knife, which he had dropped very early on in the fight, and plunged it straight into his heart. His face ripped in a last shriek of pain, then stilled, death taking him.

She only gave him a last glance before turning, met by a roar of outrage from over half the crowd gathered round the battlefield. Her master had an arm around her shoulder before she could take another step, his face contorted into a deadly snarl as the crowd encroached. Her chest was heaving, blood dribbling from her nose, utterly broken from a left hook and aflame in pain. During the battle, she had but barely felt the wounds she'd received. But now that it was over, she was plainly aware of how very battered her body actually was.

"She killed him!" one of the crowd screamed in murderous rage. "That wench killed my star-pupil!"

The accuser stepped from the crowd, his face torn into a look of crazed fury. Her master pulled her tighter against him, practically squeezing her to the point where she couldn't breath. For once, though, she wasn't about to complain. She wanted him to handle this. Right now it was taking all of her resolve just to hold in her lunch. She felt like she was going to wretch. It must have been that blow to her gut.

"I don't know what you want me to do about it, Silac. I mean, its part of the game, isn't it?"

"I want that wretch's heart! I demand punishment!"

"Ah, I get it now. You're just upset because your pupil got his ass whooped by a girl, aren't you? I bet my good eye that you wouldn't be throwing a baby fit right now if my student was a man, now would you?"

The aggressor's face paled.

"Hmm? What's the matter? Not used to being called out? Hahaha."

Her master started walking, pulling her with him. She was all too happy to oblige.

"Come along, my little warrior."

He brought her back into the hut they'd been given for the event. She sat down on the bench as soon as she could, finally letting herself go. She panted, there wasn't a part on her body that didn't ache. Everything was aflame. She hissed when he pressed a wet towel to one of the larger gashes she'd received, a cut that stretched from collarbone to her left shoulder.

When he continued to press despite her hiss, she glared at him. "Ow."

He paid her no attention.

"Ow." She said it a bit louder. Still no recognition.

"OW OW OW OW OW!"

"What?!"

"It _hurts_."

He didn't look amused.

"Yeah, well, I'd rather it hurts. At least this way it won't get infected."

She huffed. She hated it when he made sense. Now she had to let him continue to clean her without complaining. He tediously cleaned each and every cut she'd received, a fair few to be sure, washing them with a wet towel and smearing a paste that smelled like mint over each before wrapping clean linen over them. She could only hiss through a clamped jaw as he brushed roughly against her tortured skin. When he was done, he stood, and patted her shoulder.

"You did good out there. Get some rest."

She thought about his words once he had left, presumably to gloat to his peers and rub the bloody-loving noses in it. But her chances of survival were going downhill. Fast. She'd survived one round, but there were many more that'd she'd have to endure, each harder than the last. Her one saving grace was the fact that for tonight, she could rest, and recover. Tomorrow wouldn't be the same. _One down. Five more bouts to go…_

* * *

"Sir, I must insist that you're being unreasonable."

"Are you joking?! Five hundred rupees is a ridiculous amount to ask for such a cheep trinket!"

"Sir. This is no cheep trinket. It's an amulet of health imbued with the spirit of a fairy. It's a literal lifesaver. Five hundred is not an unfair price."

Xenosis Salem Valori sighed behind the counter of his small, traveling storefront. This was the one hitch of his job. He loved his job, traveling the world, finding rare and unusual treasures, meeting new and exciting people. But when a prospective customer turned out to be one of those people who always tried to lo-ball a merchant on his prices, it got on his nerves.

This particular treasure, like many in his cart, was completely unique and one-of-a-kind. How was he supposed to feasibly charge less than he was for such a rare piece of jewelry?

"Sir. I'm trying to give you the best offer that I can, but I must insist that you see it from my point of view. This amulet is the only of it's kind. It can literally save your life, and it took a lot of searching to find. The best price I can possibly give you is three hundred, it's a real treasure."

The man looked unimpressed. Without another word, he walked away, toward the small town not more than a mile to the east.

His shoulders slumped at the lost sale, putting the amulet back on it's display.

When he sat down on the stool he had, a small green creature crawled onto his lap, purring like a cat, but covered in forest green scales the glimmered light silver in the sunlight. The little dragon rubbed against his chest before settling down against him, lightly nibbling on his hand when he stroked her scales.

"At this rate, we'll be lucky to eat pancakes for the rest of our lives." He murmured to the little beast. She prickled at his words.

 _P-p-pancakes? I hate p-p-pancakes._

"I know, but they're cheap."

 _I want steak._

"Well, when you make enough rupees to buy yourself a stake, go right ahead."

She had no retort, but instead dug her claws ever so slightly into one of his legs. He yelped, and threatened to push her off, realizing only a second before it was too late that it might actually make the pain worse.

"I can't help the fact that we're broke, Kaine."

 _Sure you can. Stop charging a fortune for a necklace._

"Kaine, you know how much that thing is worth!"

 _You're too prideful._

"You're too greedy."

I'm a dragon. What do you expect?

He stood, forcing the little dragon to scrabble from his lap to instead take her usual spot atop his shoulder.

What are you doing?

"Packing up," he answered, gathering up his displays and loading them into the small wagon behind his stall. "No one's buying, and I'm freezing. Time to call it a day."

Looking around, the world was at its prettiest. The leaves on the trees were ablaze in a sea of yellow, red and orange, being lifted by the brisk wind and carried into the crystalline sky. The grass was yellowing as well, like an ocean of gold as far as the eye could see. Hyrule truly was a beautiful place. Even to a foreigner like him.

Very few people were outside when his wagon rattled into the village, pulled by a shaggy brown pony he called Mateo. There were but a few houses and buildings, and as he traveled further in, he found that there was no inn, no bar, no place to warm himself. What a poor choice he'd made in stopping in this village. The few villagers who were out and about gave him suspicious glares, and crude gestures.

It was very apparent that they didn't appreciate newcomers.

"Well, Kaine, you feel up to a ten hour drive? Or would you rather stop here and sleep in the wagon?"

She curled herself atop his shoulder, tucking her nose underneath one of her front legs.

 _It doesn't much matter to me._ _I can sleep whenever I want._

"A ten hour drive it is." He proclaimed with false joy. In all truths, he wasn't looking forward to the drive. He was tired, and depressed from the lack of cash in his pocket.

And so, as quickly as he had come, the wagon left through the other side of the village, headed north, toward the capital of Hyrule. Toward the bustling metropolis of light, music and color, a feast for the eyes and the soul, a paradise for artisans and those who traded in fine goods. Toward Castle Town…

* * *

 **Did everyone like it? This story starts out kind of slow, sorry about that. But I hope it will do well. Thanks to Courage for letting me write an entire story about Xen! You're, well, Awesome!**

 **R & R People! **


	2. Diseased With Pride & Greed

Chapter 2

Diseased With Pride & Greed

* * *

Several men were leant against the outside of houses and bars as she passed. Lazily chewing on pieces of dead, dried grass or tobacco, occasionally spitting on the ground at their feet without stopping to think of anyone around them who might find it offensive or rude. They were all filthy. Their skin, which she assumed once had been a light shade of peach or tan, was brown with caked dirt and mud. Probably manure too, judging by their pungent odors.

When she strode into their sight, quickening her pace in hopes of passing without being seen, their heads jerked up like dogs that had caught the scent of a rabbit or hare. She glanced briefly in their direction when they began making crude noises, whooping and whistling at her like a mere object. They were no better than pigs.

Their disgusting lips were parted in hungering smiles that revealed their uneven, rotting teeth, lodged into inflamed, diseased gums that gave off a scent that resembled rotting corpses.

"Hey, hey where ya goin' girlie?" they called. "Ain't ya gonna give a man an honest look, huh?"

She ignored them, walking down the decrepit street without giving them another glance. It was almost dark out, the sun slowly falling beyond the city walls and giving a final flourish of oranges, reds and pinks. She often felt the loneliest at twilight. She never quite understood why. Perhaps it was something instinctual, something she had no control over. Something her ancestors had learned, and slowly engrained into her and her kin's very blood.

"Hey now! Come on back!" She heard them call as she rounded the corner and practically raced out of sight and into a darkened ally. The part of the city she was in was a veritable maze of half thoughts and bad planning. One minute you could be on a main road, the next, at a dead end, surrounded by street-toughs or thugs or rapists or any other manner of criminal. That was how it always was, and it seemed that was how it would always be. The current government had no interest in fixing the lower ring's problems.

From what she'd heard from those who lived in this dying slum, the current king had long since lost his grip on reality, and the duty of making daily decisions had been passed on to his chancellor. Most said that the entire upper ring was diseased with pride and greed.

She'd lost herself in thought, and in her moment unawareness, she bumped into a firm chest, giving a soft yelp as she came to realize this. A thickly gloved hand grabbed her by the wrist before she toppled backward, and held firm as she stared up into cold, emotionless eyes, partially concealed by golden metal that rested atop his head. Her complexion paled a few hues, and palm growing sweaty. Flight instinct had kicked in. She wanted to run. Run fast and hard, as far away as she could manage before collapsing.

A royal sheriff was holding her wrist, looking down on her, an expression of smug realization slowly tugging at his wrinkled features.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in," he growled, reaching with his free hand toward a leather pouch at his hip. "If it isn't the notorious Akumi, the boys back at the castle'll get a laugh out of this one." He was reaching for cuffs. Now was her only chance.

She shrieked and ripped her wrist from his grip, bolting up the muddy street like a fawn frightened from it's hiding spot among the bramble. If anyone other than soldiers and criminals ever stood out on the streets, she'd have been nothing more than a blur, whipping past shacks, bars, brothels. She was headed nowhere in particular, there was nowhere she really wanted to be. The only thing she desired was escape. When she turned down a road that wove between many small, hovel-like dwellings, the dwellings of laborers and slaves, a small brown pony entered her path from an intersection, forcing her to swerve.

Her quick, jerking strides startled the beast of burden, making it squeal and lift it's front legs off the ground. The wagon it was hitched to rattled and clattered as the pony panicked, the driver grabbing at the reins before they could be pulled from his grip. Her eyes met with the driver's as she dodged flailing hooves and continued. They were mesmerizing, one green, and one blue. He was looking at her, not with lust or cruelty, but interest. Something she seldom saw in others' eyes.

But she ran onward, knowing that the sheriff was hot in pursuit, leaving the intriguing man behind and racing ever further into the slums. Soon, she'd run so far that she'd reached an area so deeply rooted in the lower ring even she had never been. It was the heart of the slum. The sickened, dying heart.

Garbage and manure lined the muddy roads, the culminating smell was rancid and cloying, filling her lungs with the foul air. She slowed only when she was sure the sheriff had been thrown off of her trail, her chest was heaving. Even for her, the run had been exhausting. She now had no idea where she was, or how to find her way back. There was a strange, mournful feeling in the air, like the feeling you'd get from an uncared for graveyard. In all honesty, the feeling wasn't too out of place.

In the very middle of the slum, standing tall against the low, one-story hovels that were scattered about, was a church. White paint was peeling off of the slated, and from the belfry, a bronze bell hung by a withering rope, hanging sideways and rusting from utter lack of use. The stained glass windows that had once adorned every side had been broken, seemingly on purpose. Someone must have thrown rocks at it, glass normally didn't break on it's own.

It was abandoned. It was the perfect place to hide.

As quickly as the calf-deep mud would allow, she bounded toward the double-doors that led inward. The doorknobs were rusty as well, and it took a hard twist of her wrist just to make one of them turn enough for the door to unlatch and swing open with a loud, high pitched squealing of hinges.

The interior was in slightly better shape. Rows of oak pews lined either side, a musty, dust-covered carpet still on the floor from years gone by, leading up to the alter, where several shards of stained glass had fallen. When she drew near enough, she found what the pieces had been made to resemble. Three golden triangles, stacked in a holy pyramid. A Hylian artifact.

This had been a Church of Hylia.

A faith few still worshiped. Most churches had been burned a decade ago during the Revolts. She wasn't a follower. In all truth, she wasn't really a follower of anything. Most religions banned people of her kind, and the few others that would accept her were too far-fetched for her to believe.

"Hello?"

Her head jerked toward the voice, startled and fully prepared for it to be the royal sheriff.

But it wasn't the sheriff. It was a young man, younger than her by a few years. He was standing in a doorway she had failed to notice, one that led further into the church. He had a soft, inviting face, with brown eyes that held an innate tenderness, unlike most who resided in the city. His clothes were made of dark blue cotton, white pinstripes running vertically from collar to tail, which hung at his knees. Upon his chest, fashioned into a clasp that held his coat in place, was a symbol exactly like the broken glass portrayed.

"Can I help you?"

"Oh, I-I don't think you want me here, I mean-" she was stammering, backing away slowly. Despite his age, this young man was obviously a pastor, a preacher of the Hylian faith. "If you knew who I am-"

"Miss, the Church of Hylia accepts all who are in need. If I could only ask your name?"

Her red eyes flickered with uncertainty. There was nothing in the world she wanted more at that moment than a warm place to stay, if only for a night. The nights were cruel, and cold, and from now onward, would only grow colder. But what if he found out? She'd be thrown out on her ear, or worse, handed to the law.

"Kai…My name is Kai."

"Hmm…I've never heard that name before…Well Kai, can I interest you in a warm drink? I have tea."

"Absolutely."

Even if he did find out, and he did react badly, she couldn't pass up a fire and a warm drink. The chance to rid herself of the bone-chilling wind, if only for a few sweet moments, was too good to pass up…

* * *

 **Sorry for the short, and again, rushed chapter. This story starts slowly. The real meat comes in a few chapters. This is just set up, really.**

 **Also, just a quick explanation for future elements of the story. You see, I'm setting this story in a timeline of its own, (Away from my other stories, SIG & WFI I mean) and i'm also setting it farther in the future than any game has gone yet, so i'm trying to impart an almost steampunk style to cities and clothes and such. Don't worry, there are some very Zelda moments in here. I just really want to challenge myself to step away from the typical fantasy story.**

 **(And I have no time for editing, its two in the freaking morning and I really want to go to bed...)**


	3. Little Lantern Girl

Chapter 3

* * *

Little Lantern Girl

* * *

Castle Town looked nothing liked he remembered. The last time he'd visited, it had been a bright, beautiful place, bustling with merchants and street performers. Walking through the streets, around every corner, one would have seen a pair of lovebirds stealing nervous glances at one another. And not far away, would be an elderly couple, snickering at the younger pair's inexperience. Smells of fresh baked bread and roasted meat could be found almost everywhere, there had seldom been a street without at least one bakery or food stand.

But now it was desolate, decrepit, disparaged. Down every road or alley, windows and doors had been boarded up, glass broken and laying on the ground. There was garbage everywhere, giving the town a rancid odor. And leaning against the walls of many buildings, unsavory women eyed him, riskily clothed in as little as possible despite the bitter cold. One took a drag from a cigarette as he passed, looking at him sultrily from under thickly painted eyelids adorned with small, fake gemstones. When he accidentally made eye contact with the woman, she gave him her most alluring smile, tilting her head as if daring him to stop.

Realizing what she was implying, he quickly shook his head and snapped his pony's reins, urging the tired little beast to pick of the pace. Begrudgingly the pony broke into a trot, tossing it's head and, as if slinging an equine curse, snorted at him, looking back through the corners of its liquid amber eyes.

 _Are we there yet?_ Kaine's smooth voice arose from behind him in the wagon. The little forest green dragon unfurled her wings and stretched her back like a cat, a feeble yawn escaping past her small but sharp teeth.

"Yes." He answered. She obviously sensed the disappointment in his voice, otherwise she wouldn't have come up to the seat to see, she would have laid back down and gone back to sleep. But she came up to him anyway, twitching her ears and climbing up his back to perch atop his shoulder.

 _Did they all forget how to clean? And don't they know how to bathe? It smells terrible!_

He couldn't help but chuckle. He was disappointed with the city's state of disrepair, but the little dragon's comments always brought a bit of light to the darkness. Even if it was in her own, snarky, sardonic way.

Something moved in the shadows to his left. He glanced toward the alleyway they were passing, gripping the reins a little tighter. No one was there.

"I must be seeing things," he told himself. "I need to get some sleep, that's all."

Only a few moments later, he knew he was hallucinating. A single, flickering flame was floating in the distant darkness. It bobbed around a bit as the pony clopped a bit closer. The air suddenly felt several degrees cooler, it was a different kind of cold, a thick, clinging kind of cold that made even your blood seem to freeze. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end.

"Kaine? Do you see that?"

She purred softly, having nodded off with her head tucked into the nape of his neck, and slowly looked toward the road.

 _See what?_

"T-that flame. The one in the middle of the road."

Kaine snorted softly, and circled around on his shoulder a few times before settling down again.

 _I don't see a flame._

The pony didn't seem to notice either, he kept plodding right ahead at a rather speedy clip. They drew nearer and nearer to the flame, shapes becoming vaguely visible. The flame was a lantern, an ornate wooden lantern with carvings and glass walls encasing the roaring fire. For a moment, he felt as though his heart had stopped, thinking that there was no one there to hold the lantern aloft. But as he drew so close that he could faintly see the cobbles that were passing his pony's feet, he could see that there was someone there.

A little girl. She was completely naked, from the top of her thick golden hair to the tips of her muddy toes. He immediately pulled the pony to a stop, ignoring as it gave a slight squeal in protest, and jumped from the wagon. She couldn't be more than five years old.

She was sobbing, rubbing at the tears with her free hand, the lantern bobbing in the other. It seemed too heavy for her to hold.

"Are you ok?" He asked, squatting down to be level with her. She didn't seem to notice him.

"It hurts," she sobbed, her tiny voice quaked. "Mommy it hurts."

He reached forward, feeling that if he touched her, if he put a reassuring hand on her shoulder, she might calm down. But when his white-gloved hand met with her petite shoulder, he froze. His hand slipped through her body, her skin turning translucent, enveloping his hand. It was so cold. It felt like death itself had touched him.

"Mommy it hurts!" She wailed into the night, making him jolt away. His back hit the wagon just as the lantern slipped from the girl's hand, and crashed to the cobbles. The glass shattered, the flame burst out of its confines, but then disappeared, as if drenched in water.

The little lantern girl disappeared as well.

He out and out screamed bloody murder when a hand grasped his own shoulder, and nearly fell trying to scramble away from whatever hellish beast had just touched him. But it wasn't as he expected. A young woman was now standing there, beside his wagon, breathing heavily as if she had just run several miles.

"You have to help me-!" she gasped, doubling over and grabbing onto her own knees for support. Sweat was dripping from her face, plastering her ravens' feather hair to her skin. "Please, let me ride in your wagon! Only until they leave."

By this time his mind wasn't functioning exactly right. Was this woman a specter too?

She looked up at him, and locked his gaze. Her eyes were as red as blood, but full of fear and exhaustion. "Please, please help me."

He looked at the cobbles, where the lantern had shattered. There was nothing left, no glass, no wood, not even ash or ember. Had it been a hallucination? Or had he seen a spirit?

"Fine, get in."

She muttered a quick, mumbling thank you, and staggered into his wagon, stepping over the seat and disappearing into the back with his wares. Kaine was giving him a disdainful look from the passenger seat.

 _You're giving her a ride?_

"Of course," he hissed, leaning his head low to the dragon so that their conversation would be private. "I don't make it a habit to deny a lady a ride."

 _She looks like trouble._

He opted to ignore the little dragon, settling himself in his seat and gathering up the reins. Once the pony started moving again, he ran a hand through his white hair. What had he seen back there? The little girl's cries were still ringing in his ears. Her tears etched into his eyes. Her pain stabbed through his heart like a knife. She'd looked so real, sounded so real. His hand still burned with cold from where he'd touched her.

His passenger was deathly quiet, except for occasion soft sighs or a rustling of fabric. He hadn't noticed what she was wearing, and he hadn't paid much attention to what she looked like either. It didn't matter much to him at that moment though. He was now focused on something in the distance. Not a flame, not a specter, but more of a shape. A gigantic black shape, which stretched as far as he could see to the east and to the west, looming menacingly over the rest of the city.

"What is _that_?" He said to himself, more observational than questioning.

"It's a _wall_ ," his passenger said, startling him a bit. He wasn't used to human company. "It keeps the common garbage like you and me out, you know the saying, outta sight, outta mind."

"That wasn't here when I last visited."

"I'm pretty sure it _probably_ was, you must just not have noticed. The wall's been up for over a hundred years…"

* * *

 **Super late chapter. Sorry everyone writers block was persistant. And I know this chapter was a little...weird...trust me it'll make sense later on. AND I'M SO TIRED NO TIME FOR EDITING!**


	4. Invasion

!WARNING!

Disturbing content. M for Mature. Reader direction is advised.

* * *

Chapter 4

* * *

Invasion

* * *

It was atop the eastern wall that two night guards were sprawled upon the stones, a multitude of empty glass bottles scattered at their feet. They were giggling like they were insane, heads lolling on the ground, hiccupping and wheezing.

" 'ey, ya got any smokes?" One slurred to the other.

" 'Eyup, tha's in my pocket. Jus' lemme get em an we'll both 'ave a cig."

He rummaged around in one of the pockets on his hip, fingers loosely grabbing a hold of a small wooden box and dragging it from the rough fabric and holding it up as if he'd found a carton of gold. He flipped the lid back and pulled two of the narrow tubes from the box, shakily handing one to his equally inebriated friend. His friend fumbled with a match that he'd found in his breast pocket, attempting to strike it on the harshly hewn stones they were laying on, to no avail.

"Damn!"

" 'ere, lemme 'ave a go."

They were too busy and too intoxicated to notice when a hooked metal object flew up from the darkness that was beyond the city and wedged into the stones. And it was only seconds later that a black shape of a body came hurling over the remainder of the wall, hitting the floor with a mighty thud. The drunken guards only noticed when the shape lunged and grabbed one of them around the neck, hefting him into the air as if he weighed nothing at all.

He choked out a scream, grabbing at the hand that was holding him aloft by his own neck. His fingers dug into the stranger's skin, making shallow gashes and gathering skin and blood beneath his fingernails. And yet the stranger kept its grip, tightening around the man's neck, threatening to crush his windpipe.

Seconds before his life slipped away, the guard glimpsed the face of his killer. A man, with luminescent red eyes.

The guard's body landed in a crumpled, tangled heap upon the floor beside his drunken friend, whom was pinned to the ground by another intruder that had followed closely behind the male. The first intruder plucked the last full bottle of hard alcohol from the floor and eyed the yellow contents. There was a soft crack, and the other guard was dead, just as several more black shapes crawled over the wall and gathered, growling and whimpering softly like anxious dogs.

He uncorked the bottle and smiled when he sniffed the contents, the heavy scent of whiskey wafting from the bottle. The others murmured and gave short yips of eagerness when he tipped the bottle forward and poured the yellow liquid over the two bodies, letting it pool on their cold skin and soak into their clothes.

No one in the city was awake to see as the eastern wall suddenly burst into flame, or watch as a slew of scrambling black shapes flowed over the wall, leaping onto the roofs of abandoned houses and diving into the streets…

* * *

Xen guided the pony through a particularly narrow side street in silence. His passenger had fallen quiet again, leaving an awkward gap between them. The cart rattled as it swayed after the sturdy little beast of burden, and Kaine snuffled in her sleep, legs twitching. The adrenaline he'd felt from his spectral encounter had all but washed away, leaving him feeling exhausted and empty.

"Where are we going?"

"Don't rightly know anymore." He heard her stand, and cross the distance between them. Glancing to his right, he saw that she was standing just behind the passenger seat, looking out onto the dreary, gray city streets. There was no sign of life. It was as if the entire lower ring had been abandoned.

"There aren't many people out. Is there something I don't know?" He asked her.

"We're in a bad part of town, Valori. The honest people here know to stay indoors. Don't let your guard down." Her hand was gripping something at her hip. Another glance and he found that a narrow blade was strapped there, concealed in a royal purple sheath decorated with red and gold fringe. It was the first time he really paid attention to her clothes. She was wearing a long vest made of purple silk, with only one button latched near her exposed navel.

The rest of her front was left open, chest concealed by a maroon brassiere that snapped in the front. The cocoa-hued tights she wore accentuated her womanly hips, sullen with dried mud from the knees down to the toes of her finely made leather boots. She was actually quite attractive. Her hair was as black as a ravens' feathers, pulled into a messy ponytail low behind her head, a single streak of dark purple locks woven in, and her bangs framed her elegantly curved face.

Her grip grew tighter on the hilt of her sword. She seemed to have seen something.

She was eying the darkness that blocked them in from either side. The only light in the road was from the lantern hanging off of his cart, giving them only a narrow line of sight. What had she seen? Or had she seen anything at all? Was there another spirit out there? Another specter?

The pony clopped onward, though a bit more tentatively. It seemed to sense something too. Its ears were turned back toward them, not pinned against its neck in anger, but in listening, attentive and nervously waiting for his command.

There was movement in the shadows, shifting and sliding like a slurry of rats scurrying from the light. Had those been humans? Were there really that many watching them? He has assumed that there were a few criminals watching and waiting in the dark, but he swore he saw dozens. The thought made him slightly sick to his stomach.

Somewhere in the dark, voices began to cry from the darkness, startling both horse and driver, and sending the pony into a canter, then a gallop. The voices were dark and tortured and primal, speaking in a tongue he couldn't understand. Screaming out into the night, they erupted like coyotes on the plains, coming from every direction. The pony galloped onward, the cart rocketing after it, banging against the uneven stones in their mad dash.

The pony suddenly stopped mid-stride, causing the wagon to screech to a shaky stop. The little beast threw its head back and screamed, violently ripping the reins from his hands, dancing on its hooves in panic. Something was standing in their path.

A young woman was staring blankly at them with round, glazed over blue eyes. Her hair was the brightest of gold, hanging down to the small of her back in loose, silky ringlets. Both petite hands were gripping the frabric of her white gown.

"Miss?" he called, feeling the slightest bit unnerved by her lifeless stare. It was as if she couldn't even see them. It was as if she was blind. "Are you alright?"

"NO!" She suddenly screeched, throwing the pony into another fit of neighs and bucks. She grabbed her face with her hands and outright screamed, falling to her knees and sobbing almost hysterically. He stepped from the wagon and approached her slowly, afraid that if he moved too fast he might somehow make it worse than it already was. Her entire body was trembling.

"XENOSIS! I'M SORRY!" she wailed, curling herself into what almost resembled a fetal position. He took a few cautious steps back, heart having practically stopped. She'd said his name. "Xenosis I'm sorry it's all my fault. I'm so sorry!"

He didn't understand quite what was happening or how or even why. How did this girl know his name? And what was she apologizing about?

His passenger had dismounted the wagon as well, and touched his shoulder in a way that almost made him feel uncomfortable. Her fingers slid over the leather of his coat, tracing the creases. While the girl sobbed in the street, his passenger suddenly, somehow, had him pinned against his own wagon. He had no idea what was happening. He felt as if he was muddling through a thick haze, he couldn't even see straight anymore. The shadows that fell around the dark city streets were contorting and writhing like agonized snakes.

A few pairs of luminescent red eyes appeared amongst the shadows.

His passenger's lips were on his neck, moving slowly up toward his ear, biting him here and there.

"I'm sorry Xen. You never should have brought me into this," the red eyes drew nearer. They looked, for the most part, like normal human men. But by looking closely, he could see they weren't human. A few had spiraling horns atop their heads, others had harsh, pointed protrusions of bone from their lower jaws. No two looked the same. The looked like subjects from the Twilight Era paintings, dark and twisted, with hellish features and faces. "Now we have to kill you."

She had her narrow sword drawn in what seemed like an instant, and before he could even look down, it had been lodged firmly into his gut…

* * *

He screamed so loud it woke the entire floor. He sat bolt upright in the bed, throwing the thick wool covers aside, freezing sweat dripping from his body onto the sheets. His heart was pounding so hard he could practically feel it beating against his ribcage.

Kaine looked up from the pillow beside him, unfurling her forked pink tongue and allowing it to flicker a bit just beyond her teeth.

 _Xen?_

He pressed a hand against his bare chest and fell limply back onto the pillows, closing his eyes to the cold, barren room he'd rented.

"It was just a nightmare, Kaine."

 _Again? It wasn't 'that' one, was it?_

"No. This one was different."

The little dragon curled up on the pillow again when he released a long, heavy sigh. Without opening his eyes, he reached over to the end table, hand grabbing for a cold, round metal object. He held it tight in his hand while his heartbeat slowed, using his thumb to open what turned out to be a silver pocket watch. The moment it opened a simple, so familiar tune began to play, softly, like a music box. He turned over in the bed, clutching the watch in his hand, knowing full well he wouldn't be falling asleep for a while…

* * *

 **I know. A bit of a weird, possibly confusing (Except to me but I don't even count lol) and slightly disturbing chapter. And before anyone asks, the middle part was the dream he had so HA! Does everyone get it now? I said last chapter was weird but would make sense later, right? Can you put 2 and 2 together?**

 **(Also lol I can't remember if you said it was a locket or a pocket watch, Courage. I'm such a derp :P) aNd I know this chapter was kinda choppy. Dream sequences tend to end up that way for me.**


	5. The Search

**Hey everyone! Sorry about the ridiculous waits anymore. Please don't worry, I'm not going to abandon this story or WFI, life is hard sometimes is all. Also I feel like I'm in a rough, transitional period of my life so bear with me.**

 **The song I've chosen for this chapter is Way Down We Go by Kaleo. It's got a really great vibe for the ominous tone I'm trying for in this chapter. Check it out! Also the document editor is being a pain so I may or may not be able to add my usual line breaks. We'll just have to wait and see.**

* * *

Chapter 5

The Search

* * *

 _"_ _No please! Please! Just let us be! Please don't take her! PLEASE-!"_

* * *

Strolling aimlessly through the muddy, crowded streets, he just couldn't shake the feeling he was being watched. It was a kind of thick, cold presence that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end like a threatened dog's hackles would. Several times he caught himself staring blankly into empty, open space, not actually seeing anything at all.

But someone, something was there. He could just…feel it. Kaine didn't seem to notice, she was firmly asleep in one of his deep coat pockets, only occasionally stirring to find a more comfortable position. No, the presence didn't seem to bother her at all.

Perhaps he was finally loosing his mind.

The dream of the lantern girl and the red-eyed woman had been one of the most vivid he'd ever experienced. It had felt so real. More like a memory than a nightmare. He bumped into an older, brawny man in his absent, spiraling thoughts, and although he quickly apologized for his mistake, the man only grunted, and swaggered off. Had the people of this city always been so unfriendly? The merchants that peddled on the street all bore stern, off-putting glares.

The women of the city were seldom even seen, and the few he did pass practically spat in his direction. Even the children gave him hardened stares before racing off to find their parents.

There was no laughter. No lively, jubilant chatter. The only sounds that filled the air were disgruntled shouts and arguments, the occasional clopping of horses' hooves, a sharp yelp from a dog whose tail had been stepped on. It was almost as if the souls of everyone in the city had been ripped away, leaving only empty shells to live miserable half-lives.

They'd all lost hope.

Why hadn't he heard about the state of Hyrule's Capital City? News like this should have spread like wildfire. And yet even he, of all people, hadn't caught the slightest drift of the sheer disrepair the city had fallen into.

Slowing to an amble, he faintly heard what two village women were avidly discussing beside a fruit stand.

"Did you hear about the fire last night?"

"No, no, nothing!"

"I heard from Margaret, you know, the crotchety seamstress's daughter. Cross her heart she swears that the two guards on duty lit themselves on fire!"

"Good gracious no-! You aren't serious!?"

"I am. They were found dead just this morning on the guard tower. The fools! Drunk themselves silly and tried for a smoke!"

Something was seriously wrong in this city. If what the women were saying was true, two men had died, and yet the only thing their deaths achieved was to become fodder for the women's' gossip. When had life become so cheep? So worthless that death held no value?

"The end is near!" A voice cut through the dismal bustle. He turned his head to see that it had come from an old, wrinkled man standing against the wall of an abandoned bar. A quick glance to the opposite side of the street and he saw that two Hylian soldiers were leant against another building, watching him with suspicion. In the old man's hands he held a sign written in red ink. The language was one he recognized, yet seldom ever saw these days.

The language of the gods. The original writing used by the faith of Hylia.

"We've all been sentenced to death!" He cried, shaking the sign with fervor. His eyes were open wide, almost crazed, the irises a shade of blue as deep as the night sky, another trait that seemed to be missing in the city.

The old man saw that he had stopped, and quickly pointed a gnarled, bony finger at him.

"You there! Do you see?"

"See? See what?" He asked cautiously, taking a few steps closer.

"Don't be silly boy! The state of the city! The state of the city! Is it not plain enough for you yet to see? Surely with those vibrant eyes of yours you can see!" the man was practically hysterical, his bare feet dancing against the ground, appearing slightly blue, nearing frostbite.

"Of course I can see that. It's terrible."

"It's all a conspiracy boy! I've heard that the old king went loony years ago, and ever since than that wolf in sheep's clothing of a chancellor's been calling the shots. Even keeps the poor princess locked up in the grounds. She used to take walks to visit with the people, see that we were all in favor of the way things were run. Not since the old rat took over, though," the old man prattled, coughing between sentences. "He's even the one who started the Revolts, you know. Keen on 'killing' the Goddesses, he is."

By now, a small crowd had gathered. It seemed most were merely interested in him, not the old man. Some of them were even laughing at him for paying the man any attention at all. The man started speaking even faster when he saw two Hylian soldiers shoulder through the crowd, words bleeding into a desperate scream.

"Boy tell me please. What happens when you kill the gods? Tell me! Surely you know!"

The soldiers grabbed the old man by the shoulders, quickly overpowering him and starting to drag him away.

"What happens when you kill the gods?!"

They'd dragged him away before he could answer.

The crowd slowly dispersed as he uttered his soft answer.

"If you kill the gods, you become one…"

* * *

Much later in the day, when the sun was slowly making the distant hills it's grave, he returned to the inn he was staying at, his few, necessary purchases made. Mostly, it involved dinner, which the inn would have gladly supplied, had he had enough money to pay for it. He slowly made his way to his room, unlocking the door and slipping inside. Kaine leapt from his shoulder and spread her silvery leather wings, gliding to the bed and plopping down.

"Haven't you had enough sleep for today?" He asked.

 _Aren't you going to sleep after dinner?_

"Yes." He emptied the small bag he'd received with his meager purchases onto the rickety table. A loaf of stale, day-old bread, a few slices of cheese and a very, very small cut of roast beef. The little green dragon immediately smelled the beef, and leapt onto the table, her spiny tail wagging like a puppy excited to see its master. He snatched the cut of beef away before she could tear into it, watching her face fall.

"No, you have to share."

 _You're no fun._

They ate their unsatisfying meal in silence, the little dragon finishing considerably faster than he did, and claiming her space on one of the under-stuffed pillows the inn provided. Looking out the single window, he could faintly see the palace from there, way off in the distance, amid the dark sea of houses and hovels and stables and bars and brothels. And as the sky grew darker, the palace grew brighter, a light in almost every window, whilst the rest of the city fell into a depressing shade of black.

What had truly happened to the shinning metropolis he had once known? This wasn't the Castle Town he remembered. He remembered a day when people happily greeted one another on the street, a day when ladies were not afraid to walk in the open without their husbands or fathers there to protect them. A day when children played on small grassy lawns, innocent and carefree, the way children should be. And with the darkness, the city grew silent, people retreating to their homes for the night.

But new, frightening sounds took the place of the daytime bustle. Sounds that resembled wicked claws dragging against the pavement. The city suddenly erupted into a spine-chilling din of sound, primal voices crying out like coyotes would call out into the night on the quiet plains of southern Hyrule. Yelping, he slammed the window shut.

Those voices sounded exactly like the voices from his dream.

Kaine was standing on the edge of the bed, glowering at the window, tail completely straight, the pointed tip twitching slightly. Her lips peeled back, and she growled fiercely despite her small size. He peered out the window, face practically pressed against the cheep, dirty glass. He could see shapes, dark, twisted figures prowling around the street below them. They were frantic, searching the street as if possessed. He felt his pulse quicken.

One suddenly stopped, just below his window, and stared blankly ahead for several moments, before turning it's gaze directly up at him, meeting his eyes with glowing red orbs. He yelped and leapt away from the window, a crash coming from downstairs in the lobby. The woman at the desk shrieked.

The creature had come inside.

They didn't have long.

"Kaine! Come on, lets go!" He barked, grabbing his satchel of belongings and racing out of their room, Kaine gliding to land on his shoulder before he made it through the doorframe. Knowing that the creature would come up the stairs, he raced for the back exit, through the dark, unlit corridor of peeling paint and creaking floorboards. The door nearly came off its hinges when he threw it open and raced down the staircase that led to the back street.

He didn't know where he was going. He didn't honestly care. At least not at that moment.

 _This is a dream!_ He told himself as he ran. _Its just a dream! This isn't real!_

He knew the creature was behind him. He wasn't about to fool himself in thinking he could outrun it that easily. He had to find a place to hide.

However, he was so occupied with the singular thought of running away, he didn't see a second creature race from a nearby alley, striking him in the shoulder and shoving him to the ground beneath its weight.

"I want to wake up! This isn't real! I want to wake up!"

Kaine gave a sharp hiss and leapt to the eaves of the closest house, hunching her shoulders and watching with wide silver eyes.

"Wrara ek sra serr?" The humanoid creature on top of him hissed to the other, which approached quickly, sniffing the cold autumn air.

"I kkarr rar, kra'k rara."

"I com's kaa rar."

"Ha kiks ba redems rar."

He could only remain still as the creatures spoke in a tongue he didn't recognize. Hopefully, they'd move on without doing him harm. Perhaps they were like cats, compelled to chase anything that moves. He could always hope, couldn't he?

Both suddenly fell deathly silent, and craning his neck just a touch, he could see they were both staring at something in the distance. Seeing the same thing as they, he felt as though he was going to be sick.

A light, a familiar light, bobbed in the distance, soft sobbing sounds ringing through the crisp air.

The little lantern girl from his dream was here. And this time, he wasn't dreaming…

* * *

 **Thanks for the patience everyone! I really am trying! It's just hard to get everything I want done in the amount of time I have in the day. Special thanks to Courage of Awesome who has always supported me and my writing, and helped me through a huge slump just recently! Thanks so much!**


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